


and so the lonely sunsets flame and die

by galerian_ash



Category: The Expendables (Movies)
Genre: Companionship, Cooking, Loneliness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 04:25:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2335220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galerian_ash/pseuds/galerian_ash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Galgo opened the door, looking like a kitchen had exploded all over him. Multicolored stains on his shirt, what looked like flour in his hair, all topped off by a wild look in his eyes. "You're early," he exclaimed. "But you're here! You came, I mean. That's good, thank you. Please, step right in, I have to — the Béarnaise is being very temperamental, so excuse me." With that confused jumble of words, he turned around and sprinted back down the hallway.</p><p>Barney stared after him. "The what?" he muttered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and so the lonely sunsets flame and die

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a slightly edited line from a poem by Robert William Service.

"Do you have any plans for tomorrow, Barney?"

"Provided we're still alive, you mean?"

"Yes, yes," Galgo said, waving his hand in the air as if that was a trifling little detail.

The gunrunners must've seen his movement, for they were once again showered by bullets. Barney crept down behind the overturned jeep, grimacing. "Case in point."

"We've seen worse," Galgo replied. His voice was muffled, having dived headfirst into the dirt when the shooting had begun. "Besides, the others will show up any minute now."

Barney dared a quick look around the windshield. The ridge was empty; no sign of the cavalry.

"Well?" Galgo said, as he got back to his feet — or, well, back to his hands and knees.

"Well what?"

" _Tomorrow_. Are you busy doing something?"

"No, why are you asking?"

Galgo didn't reply right away, as he raised his rifle and squeezed off a shot. It hit its mark, judging by the subsequent yelling and firing from the other side. Turning to Barney, a smug grin on his face, Galgo answered, "I finally found an apartment! No more hotels for me, no sir. So, I — I was thinking you could come check it out."

Barney was a bit taken aback. He knew Galgo had been hunting for a place in New Orleans ever since joining the team, but he hadn't meddled — the guys' private affairs were _their_ private affairs, and none of his business. But he knew Galgo was eager to please, so it'd make sense if he wanted Barney's input on the location.

"Alright, sure," he said.

Galgo's grin widened. "Great! I'll cook dinner for us."

Barney opened his mouth to protest, but the appearance of the team, barreling over the ridge in a tank, made for a very effective distraction.

\----

It wasn't the best neighborhood, but that was a good thing. It was the sort of place where people would leave their fellow residents in peace, regardless whether or not they ever happened to see anyone carrying guns.

Barney looked around one last time, before deciding that he could safely assure Galgo that he'd chosen a good place to settle. Thus satisfied, he reached out and knocked on Galgo's door.

He heard a curse from within, followed by running footsteps. It made his hand twitch towards his Colt, but he forced himself to remain still.

Galgo opened the door, looking like a kitchen had exploded all over him. Multicolored stains on his shirt, what looked like flour in his hair, all topped off by a wild look in his eyes. "You're early," he exclaimed. "But you're here! You came, I mean. That's good, thank you. Please, step right in, I have to — the Béarnaise is being very temperamental, so excuse me." With that confused jumble of words, he turned around and sprinted back down the hallway.

Barney stared after him. "The what?" he muttered.

Shaking his head, he entered the apartment and closed the door behind him. He debated whether or not to take off his boots — Yang had once lectured him on the subject, and if Spaniards had the same custom... But no, Galgo had been wearing shoes, hadn't he? Probably be okay to keep his on as well, then.

He followed the path Galgo had taken, looking around as he walked through the apartment. It was very bare and impersonal, something that made sense for most men of their profession — but somehow, in this particular case, it just seemed wrong. Galgo struck him as the kind of guy who'd have photos and books and all kinds of sentimental trinkets, so it was a bit surprising to find this... emptiness.

"How long have you had this place?" he called out, as he rounded a corner and entered the kitchen. It was just as messy as Galgo himself was, but it smelled absolutely heavenly.

Galgo was stirring something in a saucepan, a focused scowl on his face. He didn't look up, didn't even seem to be _blinking_. "Little over a week."

"It's a nice place," Barney said.

"I know it's not very homey, so you don't have to be polite."

"Nah, all it needs is some new wallpaper, maybe a fresh coat of paint here and there. You should ask Gunner to help you out — he's pretty good at that sort of thing."

That got Galgo to finally glance up. "Really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in obvious disbelief.

"I know, you wouldn't guess it in a million years, but it's true."

Galgo turned his attention back to the saucepan, and grimaced. "Goddammit! Quick, hand me an ice cube!"

"Huh?"

"An ice cube! From the freezer, hurry, hurry," Galgo almost yelled, sounding more panicked now than he had when they'd been facing those gunrunners.

Barney did as ordered, watching in befuddlement as Galgo dropped the ice cube into the yellow sauce he'd been tending, and then whisking it like his life depended on it.

"What was that for?"

"The Béarnaise was breaking."

Barney didn't have the slightest idea what that meant, but something told him he was probably better off not asking any more.

Seemingly satisfied with the sauce at last, Galgo put it down and gestured towards the table. "Have a seat, I'll be right back."

Barney sat down, fighting not to smile when Galgo reappeared half a minute later — wearing a clean shirt, but still with flour in his hair.

"Here we go," Galgo said, as he put down a plate in front of Barney. "Flank steak with duchess potatoes and Béarnaise sauce, plus honey wheat bread.

"You made all of this yourself?" Barney asked, incredulous.

"You shouldn't sound so impressed before you've even _tasted_ it," Galgo said, chuckling. "It's been a while since I last cooked — haven't had much of an occasion to bother, you know? Doesn't seem worth it when it's just you, yourself, eating."

Yeah, Barney could understand that. In lieu of answering, he reached out and cut a slice of the bread. It was still warm from the oven, and tasted wonderful. "However long it's been, you haven't lost your knack for it."

Galgo smiled, and they both dug in. The mysterious sauce, despite inducing a mad scramble for ice and clearly being a pain in the ass to make, was every bit worth it.

"So," Barney asked when he'd finished eating, leaning back in his chair and feeling ridiculously stuffed, "where did you learn to cook like this?"

"From an old lover."

"Was she a chef or just nice enough to cook for you all the time?"

Galgo seemed to hesitate, before answering. "He was both."

"Oh. Sorry for assuming."

Grimacing, Galgo shook his head. "No, I'm the one who needs to apologize — I should've mentioned it upfront, but I... I was worried you wouldn't want me around, you know what I mean?"

"Shit, Galgo. I don't give a damn about that — hell, look at Trench! I worked with that bastard for years, and his sexuality was the last thing about him that bugged me. And trust me, a _lot_ about him bugged me."

Galgo tipped his head back, exhaling heavily. "I'm so happy to hear that."

"Say," Barney drawled as a thought hit him, "was _that_ why you invited me over?"

Head snapping back, Galgo gave him a wide-eyed look. "To seduce you, you mean? No, not at all! I mean, you're a very handsome man and I'd be happy to — ah, no, that's not-"

"Galgo," Barney said, holding up a hand in an attempt to stop the flow of words. "Shut up for a second. That's not what I meant. Did you invite me over to _tell_ me?"

"Oh," Galgo said, nodding vigorously as he drew out the syllable. Then, suddenly, he shook his head instead. "No."

"Then why? For men like us, this is a good area to live — but you know that just as well as I do. So there's gotta be something else."

Galgo dragged a hand over his hair, some of the flour dusting off into a little cloud. "I didn't expect you to push it," he said. He had that subdued look in his eyes and the quiet tone of voice that he'd had in the woods, when revealing the fate of his old team.

Barney felt a sudden pang of guilt. Galgo was nice enough to cook him the best meal he'd had in ages, and this was what he did in return? That was low, even for him.

"Today's my birthday. It's just... sad to spend it alone, you know?"

"Galgo-"

"No, no! Don't say anything. I didn't plan on telling you, because I wanted to avoid this. But you asked, so..." he trailed off, shrugging slightly.

"I wish I'd asked earlier. I'm sure the guys would've wanted to do something."

"You think? Really?" Galgo's lips quirked into a mirthless smile. "I strongly doubt it."

"Christmas would've-"

"Yes," Galgo said, cutting him off, "because he's a nice guy and he would've felt sorry for me. But I wanted to spend the day with a _friend_. Someone who'd come for no reason; just because I asked."

Barney remembered having felt impressed, back at the hangar when Galgo had so easily admitted to having no friends. Paradoxically it'd been a sign of strength, something he himself had always been unable to admit.

"Look, I don't want you to think that the team dislikes you or anything. They don't. You just haven't allowed them to get to know you yet."

Galgo frowned, but remained silent.

"But I'm seriously the last person who should give you advice about this," Barney muttered.

"Why? Because you do the same thing? You push people away to hide how much you actually care, and I talk my mouth off to not have to think about how lonely I am. That about sums it up, no?"

Barney snorted. "By all means, don't sugarcoat it."

"...Want something a bit stronger?" Galgo asked, gesturing to their glasses.

"God, _yes_."

\----

By the time they decided to call it a night, Barney was drunk. Not to the point where he couldn't handle his bike, but drunk enough that certain impulses didn't get flagged down the way they should've been. Which was why he found himself stopping in the doorway and turning back to face Galgo.

He leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Galgo's lips. "'Cause I didn't get you a present."

For a while it seemed like Galgo wasn't going to respond at all. He just stood utterly still, with a stunned look on his face. Barney's brain was beginning to spark to life, yelling at him through the haze.

Shit, what had he been thinking? No, he hadn't _been_ thinking, that was the whole problem. He opened his mouth to apologize — and that was as far as he got.

Galgo reached out, fisting his hands in Barney's shirt and pulling him in closer. Their lips connected again, but beyond that point it was a whole new ballgame.

As if asking permission first, Galgo licked along his bottom lip. A light bite, and then his tongue ventured inside to find Barney's. There was no wrestling for dominance, no pushing to take the lead — they both gave, and took, in equal measures. It was like nothing Barney had expected, and all the sweeter for it.

Galgo was the first to pull back. "If I was not a gentleman," he said, panting slightly, "I would be dragging you back inside this very second. But, you're not sober and I don't want to take advantage."

That was probably a very sound and rational decision. Still, Barney couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. Which was crazy, really. "Yeah, okay," he forced himself to say.

"As I'm suddenly in a very desperate need of a cold shower, I will bid you goodnight," he said, grinning wryly. His smile softened, as he added, "Thank you for the present, Barney."

"Thanks yourself."

With one last look, Galgo closed the door.

Barney remained standing outside for a while, feeling too floored to even contemplate moving. He was hard, for fuck's sake — and wasn't that a thrilling prospect, riding his bike in this state? _Damn_.

If he'd been just a bit more drunk, he could've barged back inside; could've joined Galgo in that shower, telling him to forget about the gentleman routine.

...But he wasn't.

Maybe he should start carrying a flask, like Gunner. With that idea in mind, Barney began walking to his bike. The grin on his face would've been embarrassing, had anyone been around to see it, but dammit, he was really looking forward to seeing how this was going to evolve.


End file.
